


the art of the (im)possible

by mswyrr



Category: Black Mirror
Genre: F/F, Femslash, San Junipero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mswyrr/pseuds/mswyrr
Summary: Kelly and Yorkie, growing together.





	

_“A map of the world that does not include Utopia is not worth even glancing at, for it leaves out the one country at which Humanity is always landing. And when Humanity lands there, it looks out, and, seeing a better country, sets sail. Progress is the realisation of Utopias._ ”  
― Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

Cigarettes finally tasted right. And coffee – the depth that was missing before was there now. Kelly guessed it was because she was now wholly part of this place, instead of just a visitor. There was nothing for her to compare it to anymore. This was as real as real got. She watched the sun rise over the ocean every morning, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee which appeared before her just the way she liked it, dark and sweet. Yorkie liked to sleep in, and that suited Kelly just fine.

She had subscriptions to media outlets from the other world. She took her updates in via a newspaper that appeared every morning on their doorstep. Depending on how she toggled her sliders, she could watch the news on television, listen to a radio, or read on her tablet interface. But Kelly was old fashioned, so she spent the morning with the crisp, inky smell of her newspaper.

By the time she finished up, Yorkie would come wandering out, barefoot and wrapped in a blanket. Her hair was always tousled from sex and sleep and there was a soft smile on her face. She was so happy just to be alive. Kelly’s heart would catch at the sight. It was still like the first time. Kelly knew there would come a point, years from now, when the snap of that soft sharp pang in her heart mellowed. Marriages were like that. But for now she made sure to look up from her newspaper and let the feeling grab her heart full force.

Yorkie was not as interested in the other world as Kelly, but one morning, months into their life in San Junipero, she came over with her orange juice and asked: “Anything interesting?” peering at the newspaper in Kelly’s hands as if she was seeing it for the first time.

Kelly raised her eyebrows. “Want the headlines?” she asked. Being with Yorkie was, in many ways, like having robbed the cradle. Her experience of the world had dimmed to a faint light around twenty-one. It wasn’t an issue for Kelly: they had time to grow into each other and she’d never want to rush that. But there were conversations they just couldn’t enjoy yet. Until now, this was one of them.

Yorkie tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded firmly. “Yep.”

“Okay.” Rich always told her that she could talk your ear off about politics, so Kelly started slow. “Well, our status is still under debate in Congress…”

“What about it?”

“Whether we’re people or not,” Kelly said. “Our existence here has, so far, been regulated through the laws regarding your will and estate. But there’s a move for us to be recognized as having legal personhood. That raises questions, though, about rights… should they be equal to people with bodies or not? Some say we shouldn’t be counted at all.”

“But we are alive,” Yorkie said.

“We know that, but they don’t. And the law,” Kelly shrugged, “is an ass.”

Yorkie’s face scrunched up in a half-smile. “I thought you _liked_ politics?”

“We have a love/hate relationship,” Kelly said, very seriously. And then grinned back. “You know… when you’re so hot for someone and they do _some_ things just right but the rest of the time you’d like to wring their neck?”

“I do not know that, actually,” Yorkie said. “But it sounds… passionate.” She leaned over, kissed Kelly’s bare shoulder. “And I like it when you’re passionate.”

“Do you want to hear more?”

“Tomorrow?” Yorkie asked. “I wanted to pack a lunch and go diving on the new coral reef they released. There’s twelve new species of fish and sunken pirate treasure!”

That did sound like fun. Kelly put her newspaper down and soon enough they were zooming down the road in their hot little red car, a whole day of happiness before them.

-

 

After that, their routine changed. When Yorkie woke up she’d ask about the top news stories and Kelly would spend a few minutes on whatever interested her most. It wasn’t like the lengthy debates she used to have with her friends at the retirement community. But she didn’t expect it to be. Many of her friends had been influential in business or public office. They kept up with it like avid sports fans who couldn’t play anymore but enjoyed the game. It would be unfair to ask Yorkie to be that interested, so Kelly kept it light, and it was good. There was a freshness to Yorkie’s take on things. She didn’t have a life-time of political rivalries and alliances informing her opinions. Besides, Kelly had been getting emails on her interface tablet from Heather and Kyle lately – they were both considering crossing over and had lots of questions. They might even come visit in a few months, once their trial was approved. TCKR Systems needed to complete an upgrade on their servers before they allowed new visitors.

Kelly told Yorkie about the delegation from California that was pushing hard in favor of their rights.

“What’s their interest in it?” Yorkie asked as she tapped her foot, staring down at the waffle iron. They didn’t need to eat but they did it several times a week anyway. Routine was important to keep the days from bleeding into one another. It was possible for breakfast to simply appear, as if by magic, but Yorkie liked making it.

“There’s a lot of techies in Silicon Valley who plan to cross over,” Kelly said. “They want the best immortality their influence can buy.” This version of San Junipero was the “beta” but they had ideas for upgrades, whole new places, new worlds even. But nobody really knew what they were doing, torn between making fantasy experiences and creating a life worth living. Yet more and more people were passing over every year, into a world designed by a corporation to make money. It had rules but no deeper sense of purpose. No weight. She and Yorkie were lucky, they had each other. But even for people like them, time would pass. Everyone who lived here would one day die of despair or financial insolvency. One good market crash and the service fees could become impossible for thousands of people.

“Good news for us,” Yorkie said, digging around in the refrigerator. “Honey, I’ve got strawberries for the waffles.” She raised her head above the door. “But do you want whipped cream or chocolate sauce?”

“Both, of course!” Kelly said, looking mock offended. “What am I, on a diet?” She hadn’t been able to eat whatever she wanted since she was twenty and she was making up for lost time.

“Definitely not,” Yorkie said, sticking her tongue out.

-

 

They got a dog. Yorkie named him Max. He was more well behaved than any border collie Kelly had ever met, more of a dog in concept than reality. There was no shedding, no poop bags, no inconvenient barking, and, thank god, he didn’t kick her allergies up. He was Yorkie’s dog, really, but Kelly liked throwing him the Frisbee at the beach.

Pets were part of the newest expansion pack. The cost of living here was one of the many issues Kelly read about every day. It started with dogs and special islands you had to pay extra for, but Kelly could foresee a situation where hierarchies of class increasingly divided the residents. That worried her, as did the thought of all the people who simply didn’t have the means to choose whether to have an afterlife in the cloud or not.

“Our supporters are staging a protest on the floor of Congress,” she told Yorkie. “They want an up or down vote on our status – whether San Junipero should have a representative in Congress. Even if it passes it would just be a non-voting role, but still…”

“That’s great news!” Yorkie said, wrapping her arms around Kelly from behind. “We should celebrate.”

-

 

They were sunning on the beach when Yorkie said: “Daddy was in politics.” She was lying on her back wearing nothing but sunglasses and a very cute pink bikini.

“Yeah?” Kelly asked, treading lightly. Yorkie didn’t talk about her family much.

“Uh-huh. He was a proud member of the Orange County Board of Supervisors.” She was still looking up at the sky, the sunglasses hiding her expression.

Orange County – Jesus, that was Reagan territory. And Goldwater before that. The belly of the beast. “Conservative?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Yorkie laughed. “ _Evangelical_ ,” she said.

“You came out to a man like that?” Kelly asked, the very thought putting ice in her gut. The things he must have said to her… she sometimes wondered if Yorkie’s accident was really an accident, or if she’d wanted to die. She wondered, but she would never, ever ask.

“I know,” Yorkie said, her usual bright mood turned dark. “I thought maybe…” she didn’t finish the sentence, but Kelly knew. She thought maybe they would love her enough. And then they didn’t. “Really stupid, huh?” Yorkie asked, softly.

“Not stupid,” Kelly said, firmly, reaching over to take Yorkie’s hand. “Brave.”

Yorkie finally looked over at her. A tear slid out from under her sunglasses. “You would see it like that,” she said and smiled.

-

 

A couple days later Yorkie dragged her and Max outside for a “family photo.” Kelly was bemused. They would always look the way they did now; what need was there for family photos? But she went along with it, kneeling down beside her wife and their dog on the warm sand and smiling up at the camera for long seconds until the timer went off.

When it was done, Yorkie put the memory stick into Kelly’s hand and said: “I want you to send this to Representative Sanchez. You said she was asking for our stories. A cute picture will help.”

Kelly frowned, looking down at the black memory stick and then up. “You want me to write her about us?” Yorkie was such a private person. It didn’t make sense.

“We need to show them we’re real if they’re going to recognize us, right?”

“It helps,” Kelly said. “Polling shows that.”

“Then we have to. Besides,” Yorkie said, “I’ve realized how people see things now. It’s not just you and Greg. It’s everyone -- I have a _really good_ sad story. And what’s the point of having a really good sad story if you don’t use it?” she asked, a savvy look in her eyes. She was every bit a politician’s daughter in that moment.

“Baby,” Kelly said, reaching for Yorkie’s hand, “you’re not just a sad story. We’re the happiest people in this damn place.”

Yorkie squeezed her hand. “I know that. That’s what I mean -- I _have_ a sad story, but it doesn’t have me. Not anymore. So why don’t we use it?”

“People will pry into our lives,” Kelly warned. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Yorkie raised her soft hands to Kelly’s face. “Use it,” she said, looking right into Kelly’s eyes. “You could be our first representative, if you play this right.”

“Jesus,” Kelly said, nonplussed. “That’s ambitious.” It hadn’t even occurred to her to think like that. For all that it wasn’t Yorkie’s favorite topic, when she put her mind to it she was damn good at this.

“Like you said, we’re the happiest people in this place and _you_ ,” Yorkie leaned forward, kissed her cheek, “are the most informed citizen of San Junipero. You think the people in the Quagmire are going to want to spend hours video-calling with Congress? You said it yourself - someone has to do it. So, do it. Tell our story. Get on Sanchez’s good side. Do some interviews…”

“They’re going to want to talk to you too,” Kelly warned. “They’re going to stick their noses in our life.”

Yorkie’s smile faded into resolve. “I know but... this _matters_ , doesn’t it?” repeating back Kelly’s word from their argument.

Kelly felt heat come to her eyes, had to look away. That argument… it was a lifetime ago. But, all this time, her wife remembered. Yorkie had been thinking about her, trying to understand how this place could be more real for her.

And she found the right thing, too. Kelly thought about how everything could go wrong. Class divisions, injustice, hopelessness. It was already starting. When she read about it or saw it with her own eyes she had so many ideas about how to make it better. People needed a sense of purpose. The opportunity to contribute. This place didn’t have to be purgatory, but it would be if profit was the only interest with a voice. “Yeah,” she said, “it does. It matters.”

Yorkie kissed her on the lips, warm and soft. “Then do it. Tell our story. Make them believe we’re real.”

“Okay,” Kelly said, still stunned by Yorkie’s big plans for her. “It might take years for the legislation to move forward, you know? And before I make any commitments we can talk again…”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Yorkie said. “And I won’t change my mind. Not as long as you’ll still have time for me.” She reached up, brushed a curl back from Kelly’s forehead. “Life has to matter. But not _everything_ has to be serious.”

“That’s true. But spending time with you is very serious to me,” Kelly said. “Even when it’s not. You’re more important to me than this, you know that, right?”

“It’s not a competition,” Yorkie said, sounding very mature. Then she grinned. “But I’m glad I’m winning.”

Kelly laughed. “How about, before we declare ourselves the President and First Lady of San Junipero, we take a nice long w-a-l-k on the beach?” she asked, spelling the word out. Like a real dog, Max was programmed to get overexcited at the sound of that word.

“All right,” Yorkie said. “I’ll get the Frisbee.” At the sound of _that_ word Max leaped up on Yorkie, barking like a maniac. Kelly shook her head, slipped the memory stick in her pocket, and looked out at the false horizon. There was a whole future to build, but Yorkie was right. They had all the time in the world to do it.

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to notyourfuckingalatea for beta reading!


End file.
